


I don't know what it's like to be you

by StrawberryLane



Series: Seven minutes in heaven [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Being a grown up is hard, Communication Failure, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Lack of Communication, Light Angst, M/M, POV Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 21:49:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15872403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryLane/pseuds/StrawberryLane
Summary: They haven’t really spoken about that kiss that happened like two months ago in an abandoned office building with Hades’ pet monster playing fetch outside.Truth to be told, Bucky’s avoidance of the subject is kind of driving Peter crazy.





	I don't know what it's like to be you

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Shawn Mendes ft Julia Michaels "Like To Be You". 
> 
> So, I'm trying this not-outsider-pov thing again. I had zero ideas for the longest time and this isn't what I thought I'd be writing. But here we are. I hope you like it!

They haven’t really spoken about that kiss that happened like two months ago in an abandoned office building with Hades’ pet monster playing fetch outside. Truth to be told, Bucky’s avoidance of the subject is kind of driving Peter crazy. He’s been trying to bring the subject up numerous times, to talk about what that one, way too short, kiss actually meant.

 

Bucky’s been busy doing his best I-don’t-know-what-you’re-on-about impression in response, which is just so dumb. Like, didn’t the 1930’s have this thing called words, where you could talk about things instead of repressing them to hell and back? It doesn’t really help that Bucky, when he wants to be, is a really difficult man to pin down. If he doesn’t want to talk, he just doesn’t and no amount of begging and bribery can change that.

 

It’s not like Bucky avoids him, though, far from it. They still spend a large amount of time together, still train together every Wednesday once Peter’s finished with school, but they no longer talk like they used to. And Peter’s just about had it with James Buchanan Barnes.

 

“This is ridiculous,” he tells the older man, choosing to ignore the fact that maybe he could have chosen a better location than the gym for this particular conversation. After all, there’s a high chance he’ll be getting his heart broken by the end of it.

 

“No, stop ignoring me, this isn’t gonna work,” he continues, when Bucky responds by rolling away from him on the mats. “Bucky, come on. You’re supposed to be the grown up here.”

 

Before him, Bucky’s back stiffens and he sits up, anger clear on his face. “Exactly,” he spits. “I’m the adult and I’m trying very hard to act like one most of the time.”

 

Peter, because he’s never been the best at letting things go, snorts. “You’re not exactly doing a great job.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, Peter realizes the minute the words leaves his mouth. Bucky’s face grows hard, eyes like steel and his jaw set.

 

“Don’t you think I don’t know that?” spits Bucky angrily and isn’t that just kind of proving Peter’s point?

 

“I’m trying really, really hard,” Bucky continues, “especially when all I really want to do is-,”

 

“What?” asks Peter when Bucky abruptly cuts himself off and goes into big baby mode. Really, it’s like both Bucky and Steve received professional training in how to appear as bullheaded and difficult as possible. They’re both really, really, good at it.

 

“Nothing. Bye Pete, see you Wednesday.”

 

And just like that, Bucky rises from the mat, dusts himself off and leaves the gym. He doesn’t even look back once, despite Peter’s shouting. It does occur to Peter that he could just use his webbing to keep Bucky in the gym, but he quickly lets the idea go. Given the current circumstances using his webbing to force the Winter Soldier to stay put would probably be a really bad choice. And really bad for Peter’s health.

 

And he really doesn’t need yet another bruise he needs to explain away to Aunt May.

 

So instead, Peter watches his crush leave and then heads for the showers, where he takes the hottest shower in his life. Despite the scalding temperature of the water, he just can’t seem to get warm.

 

*

Life goes on, like it always does. A week passes in a blur of fighting criminals and finding lost dogs for little old ladies and getting paid in slightly stale sweets and cookies. And homework. Peter has so much homework. It feels like he’s drowning in it but he tries to think of it as a good distraction from the fact that all his texts to Bucky has gone unanswered.

 

And he knows for a fact that Bucky has received and read them, thanks to the guy not having bothered to turn that handy little notification off.

 

Somehow, that hurts even more. Because now Peter can’t pretend that Bucky is simply too busy to answer his texts, being away on a mission or something like that. No, he envisions Bucky getting his texts, reading them and then – what, scoffing in disgust and throwing his phone away?

So when Wednesday rolls around, Peter’s practically a rolling ball of anxiety. He’s so nervous, so hyped up about finally confronting Bucky, he walks into the gym like he’s in an MMA movie.

 

What he also fails to notice at first is that it isn’t Bucky angrily punching away at the punching bag, hitting it so hard it’s breaking at the seams.

 

It’s Steve, a hood obscuring most of his face.

 

When Peter finally notices, he falters. His big guy walk (he totally didn’t copy Bucky, no what’re you talking about?) turns into his normal pace fairly quickly at that. He comes to a stop, watching as Steve destroys the punching bag with one last punch, the chain holding it up breaking and the bag flying all the way to the other side of the room.

 

The silence is deafening.

 

“Hey Pete,” says Steve, and Peter’s heart is in his throat. This isn’t how he imagined this to go, for Bucky to not even be here.

 

“Sir- I, uh, Steve.”

 

“Bucky told me he’d been held up. Asked if I could cover for him today.” Steve’s tone of voice suggests that he doesn’t believe this for a second and Peter’s inside turns to ice.

 

Shit. And damn and shit again for good measure.

 

“I hope you don’t mind,” says Steve, chucking off his hoodie.

 

Peter absolutely does mind, but he’s not stupid enough to say so. “Course not,” he says, forcing a smile.

 

*

Peter lasts about four days before he’s storming through the Avengers Facility, still dirty and sweaty from patrolling earlier. He’s still in his Spider Man suit, reeking of a combination of smoke and the garbage he fell into earlier. Most of the people he encounters are quick to step out of his way. Friday seems to be aware of his goal already because the elevators open before he’s even reached them and he doesn’t even have to ask, she takes him directly to the floor on which Bucky and Steve reside.

 

Peter’s very thankful for Mr Stark’s various robots. They’re so cool and nice and – Peter just really, really likes them, okay?

 

“Uh, hey – Pete?” Steve looks confused when he finally opens the door to Peter’s frantic knocking. “You okay?” Captain America asks, his confusion morphing into a worried look.

 

“Where is he?” Peter more or less shouts. “Bu-”

 

Steve holds up his hands. “Living room,” he says, swiftly stepping out of the way as Peter shoves past him.

 

Bucky’s curled up under a blanket, staring blankly at Cinderella playing out on the big screen someone (probably Mr Stark) has mounted onto the living room wall. There’s a cup of coffee and a half eaten chocolate cake on the table in front of him. When Peter bursts into the room he startles, swearing.

 

Panting, Peter holds up a finger at Bucky, “We need to talk.”

 

“Uh,” says Bucky, “No. Leave me alone.” He turns over, hiding his entire body, including his head, beneath the blanket. On screen, Cinderella is sad because she can’t go to Prince Charming’s ball.

 

Well, if Bucky won’t act like an adult about this, Peter won’t either. He climbs onto the couch, laying down on top of Bucky, letting his entire body go limp.

 

Predictably, Bucky’s head emerges from the blanket. “Get off,” he mutters, but he doesn’t really sound angry.

 

“No.” Peter tells him. “I’m staying right here until you agree that we need to talk. Did I do something to upset you?”

 

In answer, Bucky laughs. Straight up belly laughs and Peter feels confused. Did he say something funny?

 

“Upset?” Bucky asks between bouts of laughter. “You? Upset me? Course not Pete. That would never happen.”

 

“Then what?”

 

Bucky looks pained. “Pete, you’re sixteen. And I never should have done what I did.”

 

“Done what you – what, kiss me?”

 

Mutely, Bucky nods.

 

“Oh come on, Buck. I said yes, didn’t I? It’s not like I resisted.”

 

Bucky refuses to look at him, still buried beneath the blanket.

 

“You asked and I said yes! I gave you my consent.”

 

Bucky mumbles and Peter has to strain to hear him. “-not of age.”

 

“Is that what this is about? Just because I’m a few months from seventeen?”

 

Again, Bucky nods. Then his head shoots up, a confused look on his face. “What do you mean seventeen? What’s seventeen got to do with anything?”

 

Now it’s Peter’s turn to be confused (again). “It’s… It’s the age of consent?”

 

“Nooo….” Bucky says, drawing out the word. “Are you telling me the age of consent ain’t eighteen anymore? Are you telling me I won’t have to wait, like, two years before I can kiss you again? If, uh, you’re interested in that, I mean.”

 

At that, Peter laughs. “Damn right I’m interested. And no, more like three months.”

 

Bucky smiles at that. “I think I can handle three months. And I’m so sorry for acting like some overgrown baby. Steve’s been telling me I’m a real loser. Said I needed to grow the fuck up. And I’m sorry for ignoring all your texts. The one about the panda was really funny.”

 

Peter mulls this over. “It’s okay,” he says, eventually. “Just don’t do it again, kay? I get worried.”

 

“I won’t. Pinky promise” replies Bucky into Peter’s neck. He’s busy rearranging them on the couch, not satisfied until they’re laying side by side, as close as they can get.

 

“But I’m all gross and I fell into some garbage and I’m still in my-”

 

Bucky presses him closer to the couch.

 

“Stay. Please.”

 

 


End file.
